Behind The Eyes of a Hero
by jakxkeiraaddict
Summary: They think they know me... they don't. I'm not a hero. I'm more than just a killing machine. Underneath all the titles, all the recogintion, I'm just... me. Oneshot, post-Jak 3. Pairing: JakxKeira. Written in Jak's POV.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Jak, Keira, or any other related characters and concepts from the series.**

**JKA: I actually came up with the idea for this fic in my piano class. I'm learning to play "Superman" by Five For Fighting (the song that inspired this), and as usual when I'm listening to music, the lyrics gave birth to a plot bunny. XD This is set post-Jak 3 and written in Jak's POV. Rated for language, but hey, it's Jak, what did you expect?**

**Also, to my fellow writers darkecomuse and MikaHaeli8, this is story number two dedicated to you guys! ^_^ I promised you more, didn't I? I figured you'd both like this one, because it's chock-full of angst with a little JakxKeira-ness thrown in for kicks. Everyone else who's reading this, go check out Mika and DEM's stories, they are AMAZING, and definately worth taking the time to read. You guys rock. :D**

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**Behind The Eyes of a Hero**

Great one.

Time warrior.

Hero.

It doesn't matter what they call me. They're all just words, meaningless, a mark of what they see me as… what I never wanted to be.

I didn't ask to be special; I would have been perfectly content to live my entire life in the small village I grew up in, never even considering that I might play some bigger role in the grand scheme of things.

But no, it could never be that simple. Destiny had other plans for me from the moment I was kidnapped from my parents as a child, the event that would change my life forever.

Well, at least I can say I had fifteen years of peace before fate decided to bitch-slap me in the face.

Nowadays, I can't even walk down the effing street without people stopping to stare at me. The wastelanders, my friends, hell even the Precursors treat me as if I'm some god come to protect them all from anything the universe decides to throw at them. As if I really want to have _more_ people's lives forced into my hands.

All those people… living out their lives and taking everything for granted. They don't know what it's like to have the burden of the planet's safety — not to mention everything and everyone they care about — placed all on their shoulders. Knowing that if they fail, it'll be the literal end of the world, and it'll be entirely their fault.

Yeah, those people are the lucky ones.

Living up to everyone's expectations of what a hero should be on top of everything else that's happened to me in recent years has been damn-near impossible. Losing my friends, my home, being thrown in that Mar-forsaken prison, having the city I risked my freaking _life_ for banish me, having my father die in my arms after I'd only just found him… I'm fortunate to still be alive after all that.

Of course, Haven City will never let me forget my past; never see me as their savior. I hear their whispers; feel their cold glares like knives in my back.

Monster.

Dark one.

Freak.

The citizens of Haven look at me, and all they see is an abomination, a science experiment gone awry that's brought them nothing but trouble. I might as well have just condemned them all to Kor and his army; it wouldn't have made any difference. Most of them believe that I was responsible for that anyway.

They look at me… and see the face of their enemy.

Those bastards think they know me, but they don't. I'm more than just a killing machine. I'm more than the pretty face of a hero the people of Spargus portray me as. None of them notice the man beneath the valor, they just see someone they can hide behind and trust to save their sorry lives. They don't realize that, behind the confident façade… there's the broken spirit of a warrior who's been to hell and back, who's lost everything that made him who he was.

I've given up everything for this planet, the city of my birth, and the city my father once ruled. My humanity, my innocence, my _soul_… have all been ripped away from me. I've lost my ability to feel anything apart from rage, pain, sorrow… My life has become nothing but an endless hell, but nobody cares enough to look past my "heroic" presence and see the agony in my eyes.

Almost every day, I wish that I could just break down, and let the grief of everything I've endured consume me for a while. I pray that I could just fall on my knees and cry like I haven't cried in longer than I care to remember.

But, I have to be strong for the people that look to me as their protector. To lose control of my emotions would be a sign of weakness, one that any self-respecting "hero" can't afford to show… despite how reluctant that hero may be.

No matter how the world sees me — whether as an Eco Freak or the Greatest of Heroes — they all seem to have one thought in common; they believe I'm invincible. Well, I hate to break it to them, but I'm just as mortal as the next guy; I just happen to have a better chance of surviving against impossible odds than most. When I get wounded, I bleed, and not Dark and Light Eco as some may think… normal, crimson blood.

My abilities — the powers that I never asked for — mean nothing. All those impossible things I've done don't define who I am. As outrageous as it may seem, I'm still human.

It was never my dream to have my name go down in history, or to have people practically worship the ground I walk on. I've never wanted fame, or the responsibility I'm forced to live with now. My biggest wish out of life is something that the average person already has, and doesn't even realize how valuable it is because they're so used to it.

The only thing I want to have, that I _dream_ of getting… is peace.

I'm not a hero. I'm not some unstoppable weapon that anyone can unleash on their foes and expect to do their bidding, and then go on his merry way, waiting for his next chance to be used. Underneath all the titles, all the recognition both good and bad, I'm just… me.

Trouble is, I'm not even sure who "me" is anymore. Whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I hardly recognize the face staring back at me. All I see is the darkness in my eyes, the scars — both physical and otherwise — that are forever etched into the twisted remains of what used to be my soul.

If one thing's for certain, it's that the boy I once was all those years ago in Sandover is long gone, and this bitter shell of a man is all that's left of him.

I just wish I could find _something_ inside me that's better than a monster, better than what I've become. There has to be _some_ part of me that's still good… if only I knew what it was.

My only comfort comes in the form of the two people who've always stuck by my side, even through my darkest moments.

Daxter… I could never ask for a better friend than him. I think he's the main reason I've managed to retain my sanity. Most of our comrades know him as "the annoying, talking rat", but they've never seen the other side of Dax. Without him… I probably wouldn't even be standing here today.

And then… there's Keira. Words can't even begin to describe how much she means to me. During the fight against Gol and Maya… and the Metal Heads… and even the Dark Makers… she was by my side, supporting me in any way she could. It seems like as far back as I can remember, Keira's just… been there for me.

Well, at least she used to be. We haven't spoken since I returned from the wasteland after defeating Erol about a week and a half ago. She's upset over what happened between Ashelin and me, and — honestly — I don't blame her. There's been… something connecting Keira and I for years; I can't deny that. I can't say what exactly, but if anything, the fact that she isn't speaking to me only proves the idea that maybe we're meant to be a little more than friends after all.

And the worst part is… I've pushed away the one person who really understood me… the woman I love.

Some people may have hopes of being a hero one day. Ha, I say good luck to them, the naïve bastards. If any of them actually knew what it was like to be in my place, they'd think twice about having that kind of weight on their shoulders.

Let them try living out one day of my life, and then they'll realize… it's not so easy to be me.

* * *

A quiet voice pulled me out of the black abyss of my thoughts, bringing my attention back to my surroundings.

"Jak?" she asked softly, pausing a few feet away from where I sat on the edge of the bridge spanning one section of the murky port waters.

I chose not to acknowledge her presence, unsure of why she'd suddenly decide to see me after almost two weeks of no contact. I could see her shift her weight nervously in my peripheral vision, a subtle movement that only heightened my curiosity.

Hesitantly, she crossed the remaining distance between us and settled down beside me, leaning back on her palms to gaze up at the surprisingly clear night sky as I was.

We both watched the stars dance across the velvet midnight in silence for how long, I didn't know. I could sense that she was building up the courage to say something, and I waited patiently for her to do so, never one to break the quiet myself.

"I'm sorry," she whispered eventually, glancing in my direction; I could feel her intense stare burning a hole in my cheek.

"No," I replied under my breath, finally turning to meet her beautiful emerald gaze. "_I'm_ sorry, Keira. The thing between Ashelin and me… it was a mistake. I never meant to hurt you."

"Apology accepted," Keira, muttered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her full lips. "But that's not what I was talking about."

I could feel my eyebrows furrowing in confusion as her words registered in my mind. "What else is there to apologize for?"

"For the way everyone treats you," Keira said simply, her deep green eyes radiating sympathy.

I blinked rapidly at her, wondering how in the name of the Precursors she'd somehow figured out exactly what had been bothering me not two minutes ago.

"Wha — how did you —" I stammered, but she cut me off before I had the chance to form a coherent sentence.

"Because I know you so well," she giggled; leaning closer to me and giving my shoulder a playful shove with her own. "I've been your friend for fourteen years, Jak. I know that when you sit outside at night like this, you're usually sulking about something."

"You caught me," I admitted, my mouth curving upwards in a sheepish grin.

Keira smiled warmly at me for a moment, and then she abruptly became serious once more. "You shouldn't worry about how others see you, Jak. They just don't understand you like Daxter and I do."

"That's the whole problem, though," I sighed, returning my attention to the night sky overhead. "I don't _want_ to be a hero. I don't _want_ to have the weight of the universe on my shoulders. I just want to be… me, whoever that is."

"Jak…" Keira breathed gently, scooting closer to me until our legs were brushing. She laid her small hand over the top of mine soothingly, and I closed my eyes, letting the pleasant feel of her touch soak in. "I know that it's hard having all the responsibility you do. But, you can be a hero and still be yourself. It doesn't matter to me what you are, or what the world sees you as… you'll always be my best friend."

My eyelids flickered open halfway, and I turned to smile down at Keira, flipping my hand over beneath hers so I could twine our fingers together.

"Thank you, Keira," I murmured, giving her hand a tender squeeze. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

She didn't bother to respond, instead choosing to simply beam at me, her endless emerald gaze locked with mine. I couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked at that moment, with the pale light of the moon shimmering in her sapphire hair and reflecting in her eyes.

"Keira?" I inquired uncertainly, biting my lip as I pondered the best way to word what I wanted to say.

"Hmm?" Keira asked; she sounded as if I'd pulled her from some train of thought.

I hesitated, wondering if I should really voice the three little words that were lodged in the back of my throat. Was this truly the right time to tell her?

_Yeah, dumb-ass_, a voice in the back of my head answered my unspoken question. _You've only known her for how long? Since you were what, five? It's about time you told her the truth._

As much as I hated to admit it, the voice was right. But… the whole idea was easier said than done.

"Jak?" Keira questioned, the look in her eyes plainly stating that she was wondering if I'd gone mute again; understandable, since I was taking much longer than necessary to spit out the solitary thought that was bouncing around in my head.

"Keira… I…" Precursors, why was this so hard to say?

"Yes?" she pressed, curiosity shimmering in the bottomless depths of her gaze.

"I… I love you," I finally choked out, feeling the heat of a blush beginning to crawl up my neck as soon as those words I'd once swore I'd never say escaped my lips.

Keira's eyes widened with blank shock, and her jaw dropped for a split second before she seemed to catch herself, closing it just as quickly. She didn't speak, just stared at me with surprise evident on her every feature.

"…Keira?" I asked worriedly, fear pulsing through my veins. I prayed fervently for her to say something, give me _some_ indication that I hadn't just ruined everything on an idiotic decision.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Keira relaxed from her rigid position, her disbelieving expression softening into an affectionate smile.

"Oh, Jak," she whispered, shifting closer to me and leaning her head against my shoulder. "I've been waiting so long to hear you say that."

My breath caught in my throat as hope swelled in my chest. "Does that mean…?"

"Of course," Keira laughed, as if I were missing something obvious. "I love you, too."

An overwhelming sense of happiness that I hadn't felt in longer than I cared to remember washed over me, and I pulled away from Keira slightly so I could grin at her. Her expression mirrored mine, her emerald eyes sparkling with something I'd never noticed in them before… love.

Wordlessly, I rested my index finger under her chin, gently tilting her head upwards. My heart hammering almost painfully against my ribs, I lowered my face to the level of hers and brushed my lips against hers in a shy, hesitant kiss. Keira's hands traveled up my back so she could wind her arms around my neck, both of us closing our eyes blissfully as we were consumed in our passionate moment.

As I enjoyed the feel of Keira's soft lips moving with mine, the depression I'd been harboring over the destiny that had been forced upon me melted away. It made me feel relieved to know that, no matter what happened, I would always have Keira by my side, just as I would always be there for her.

As long as I was with her, I didn't have to be a hero, or an Eco Freak. I could be the _real_ me… Jak, the only person I've ever wanted to be.

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**JKA: Aww, poor Jakky, so misunderstood. *sniff***

**Jak: I hate my life.**

**JKA: Look on the bright side, pallie. At least you've got Keira to occupy your time. And speaking of Keira, I added the bit between her and Jak in on a whim, so I hope that didn't completely kill the story. :P I just can't seem to write anything without having Jak and Keira get together in some way. Maybe I need help... I should go to the JKAA.**

**Jak: The JKAA?**

**JKA: Yeah! Jak and Keira Addicts Anonymous!**

**Jak: *facepalm***

**Anyways, DEM and Mika, hope you guys got your fill of angst from that little fic, because the third and final one you're getting from me will be nothing but fluff, I garuntee it. ^_^**


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